Project Desue
by yoo-hoo luver.wlegs
Summary: Join professor Kirke as he attempts the daunting task of Desueing young american MarySue, Misty o'Neil. BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND! CHAPTER 4!
1. the marysue

**Disclaimer: I don't own a single bloody thing. But after a while, you get used to it.**

**A/n: First of all, I'd like to point out that I did not write this with malicious intent. I'm writing this in hopes it'll help and if you laugh in the process, then…good. I hope it doesn't seem like I'm putting on airs. Mary-sueism is a delicate subject though I am not innocent of never making one-and I bet quite a few people can say that too. With this in mind, I hope this helps and on with the story-thing!**

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A knock resounded on the door of the professor's home and Mrs. Macready frowned even deeper. This would make the sixth visitor for Professor Kirk in two hours. She rarely put her nose in his appointment affairs, but with all the vexing visitors, she couldn't help but wonder what the bloody hell he was doing.

She opened the door only to find another beaming young woman on the door mat. She was around sixteen with long red hair that fell past her shoulders in soft curls and her bright green eyes look kind, but held a glint of unfathomable sorrow. Her skin was as pale as milk, and her odd gown of blue clung to all the right places.

She gave Mrs. Macready a bright and enthralled smile and the house keeper returned it with a raised brow and a deepening frown. "May I help you, miss?" the grumpy housekeeper inquired, almost knowing the answer.

"Yes, my name is Lily-Rose-Raven-Francesca- Evie- Sif- Zena- Darlene- Bethany- Linette- Cristalle- Merete- Andromeda- Ianthe- Zabel- Ana- Cassandra- Chrysteena- Sopheea- Ke'randah- Larahnda – Ringo- Hell Spaz- Sashonda- La'tanda- Joronda- Delphiea-" As the girl introduced herself, Mrs. Macready slipped away and did half of her duties and got a drink a good stronger than wine. When she came back several hours later, the girl was still on her name. At last she finished by saying, "But you can call me Misty O'Neil." She gave a small giggle, "I'm American. I came to see Professor Kirk and hopefully to make Peter fall madly in love with me. Though I'd settle for Edmund."

"Right this way then." The housekeeper sighed and walked Misty up the grand stair case and past all the priceless curios.

"Wow." Misty breathed, "I haven't seen anything like this before! You see, I was born on a cold September night in the poor neighborhood of NYC, my mother was a Broadway star but she died under mysterious circumstances so now I'm an orphan. But she passed down her gift of song to me!" She paused on the stair and took out a harp from no where and began to sing in what could be defined as the clearest and prettiest voice ever heard. "Memory, all alone in the moonlight. Has the moon lost her memory? She is smili-"

"We'll have enough of that." Mrs. Macready cut in and took the harp she tossed it into the convenient fire place, ignoring the shocked look on Misty's face. "This way please." When they reached the professor's door, Mrs. Macready was ready to fling herself out of the window. And with out another word, she left Misty with her employer and said a silent prayer for his sanity. This girl was the sixth beautiful, singing American with a befuddled past that came to see him.

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**"**So," Professor Kirk began lighting up his pipe, "I understand you're here because you're a Mary-Sue."

"I am most certainly not!" Misty cried indignantly, "I am Narnia's only hope! I am pretty, talented, witty, smart, pretty, a singer, a tomboy from a horrible past that I will not speak of- unless you ask me twice and say 'pretty please', pretty, fluent in every language-including Yiddish, pretty, a friend to all-"

"My point exactly. You're a Mary Sue."

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" She cried dramatically, falling to her knees.

"It's alright child. Admitting you are a Mary-Sue is the first step."

"But everyone likes me," She protested weakly.

"My dear, I'm afraid you are mistaken." Professor Kirke said, patting her shoulder gently then turned and looked to a vacant spot, as if her were addressing someone else. "A Mary-Sue is classified as an original character who appears flawless, who everyone likes and who usually has a past more dark than an opera show set in West Virginia. Often she is based off of the author herself, or is the vision of what the author wants to be.

As you can see with Misty here, M.S.'s are always rather pretty with a supermodel's physique. She often has a name jam-packed with names the author thinks of as beautiful names or an anagram of her creator's name. Other times her name can be a reflection of the character's personality. For example, a particularly dark Mary-Sue would hold the name 'Raven'."

"Who are you talking to?" Misty wondered.

"The readers."

"The readers?"

"Yes, my dear, we are in a fanfiction."

"Really?"

"There'll be doughnuts in the kitchen after this for all the readers and cast."

"Wow."

"Quiet, please." The professor requested and turned back to look at the same spot. "Mary Sues are usually the main character in the story, often leaving the canon characters out in the cold." He walked over to a refrigerator where Lucy, Susan, Reepicheep, the Beavers, and Tumnus were smushed in. The professor cast the vacant spot a calculating look and said defensively, "What? Its bloody summer! How can I illustrate this if they're sunbathing?

"Let us out." Tumnus pleaded but his cries fell on deaf ears.

"Of course, the person who's her love interest does get a little recognition. Just not as much as her.

So, you have a M.S.? Don't beat yourself up. Many writers are guilty of it, once-if not twice before. The trick is to know the difference between Mary-sues and completely developed ocs. And upon identifying a Sue, knowing how to fix her." He paused and cast Misty a look. "This is where you come in, dear."

"It is?" she questioned.

"Yes, we are going to turn you into a completely original character. And you all, will be the witnesses. So, go on to the next chapter, if you like- and bring your Mary Sues. Hopefully I can help. If not, well, at least you'll be getting doughnuts anyway." He turned back to Misty. "Stand up," he instructed and the M.S. did so. "Wave to the readers, and say you hope to see them in chapter 2."

Misty gave a large, mindless smile and waved vigorously. "Bye. See you next chappie."

Professor smiled and nodded as Misty kept waving. After a few moments, he took a hold of Misty's wrists while saying. "…And stop."


	2. name and orgin

Professor Kirke turned to the vacant spot. He still had his pipe lit and he took it out of his mouth to speak. "Oh, you're back, eh? Well, I know I need no introduction to you but this red head beauty beside me is Lily-Rose-Raven-Francesca- Evie- Sif- Zena- Darlene- Bethany- Linette- Cristalle- Merete- Andromeda- Ianthe- Zabel- Ana- Cassandra- Chrysteena- Sopheea- Ke'randah- Larahnda – Ringo- Hell Spaz- Sashonda- La'tanda- Joronda- Delphiea- oh crime in Italy! If I say her full name, I'll be dead! And I'm on borrowed time already. For all purposes, just call her Misty."

"Hey!" Misty interjected with her large grin.

"As you can tell, Misty is a Mary Sue. Our purpose over these next few chapters is to turn Misty from a M.S. to a completely original character. And it is my hope, and the entire staff of this project, that this fic will help you with your ocs as well."

"Yep." Misty added.

The professor took a puff on his pipe and continued. "Now, this chapter we will talk about a character's name. We cannot do this unless we talk about her origins." He crossed the room and sat down in the black leather chair behind his desk. "Now, Misty," he began, "Tell me, and all the readers, about you."

"Well, I was born on a cold September Night in the slums of NYC. My mother was a Broadway star but she died due to unknown circumstances. So I am an orphan. But I inherited my mother's singing voice." She paused and continued, singing, "Memo-"

"That's quite enough." Professor Kirke cut in. "Is there any-non musical information you can give me?"

"Well, I somehow ended up in England where I found two very odd rings. When I tried them on, poof! I was in Narnia. Oh! Did I mention I have special powers? Cause I do. And I can fight anyone, dead or alive."

"And win?" The professor wondered.

"Well, half the time." She answered as a drum sounded.

"And I guess you were made Queen of Narnia, then?" he prompted.

"Well, no. A kindly retired knight took me in and I grew up along with the Pevensies in the Golden Age, though we never met. And then, I finally convinced the knight to take me to a joust at Cair Paravel, but what he didn't know is I entered the joust disguised as a knight and fought King Peter himself! When Peter found out who I was he fell in love-"

"Hold! You, my dear, are getting into plot, which is an entire kettle of fish in itself. Now, Misty said she was American who traveled here, which is all fine and dandy if the canon characters are international or American. However, we here are British-cheerio, ta-ta, God save the Queen, spot of tea…quite rightly. And it is very rare for the Yankees to fly across the pond in times of war to the source of the action. So, avoid making your oc American, unless you are writing satire or if a canon character is traveling to the Americas.

So, now we have two options, make Misty a loyal British subject or make her Narnian born. There never were any reports of children entering Narnia during the Golden Age or before. And if they ever did enter before Jadis's reign, they would have been killed, undoubtedly. And due to that, any character made whose age is the same as the four Pevensies, would have to have been born in Archenland or another neighbor country to Narnia. To this effect, any British character would have to be placed before the White Witch's reign or post-Golden Age.

So, for creativity's sake, Misty will be British."

The professor was interrupted by a loud pop along with a puff of smoke. When the smoke cleared, Misty stood, wearing a plaid jumper and a light blue blouse. "I have a strange urge for fish and finger pie." She said in a perfect cockney accent.

Professor Kirke nodded and continued, "Now, just because we're British does not mean we don't have funny names. Like Winifred! Ha! Oh, jolly good, that's always a laugh. Anyway, look for traditional British names. They're everywhere. There are name books on that thing you call a computer. Use it if you want an interesting name for your character. But I must suggest that you use mainly British names. Another aspect you might look into is Biblical names, seeing that a lot of traditional English names are derived from there.

To this extent, Misty will need a new name. A proper English name, at that. I was always partial to Verity (it means truth) so let's go with that." He paused and scribbled something hastily on a piece of paper and then pinned it on Misty's shirt.

"Schmooy?" she questioned, "Whot kind of a name is that?"

"It says Verity." He corrected. Then he turned back to the space. "Well, there you have it. I must go, Mrs. Macready has set out my dinner. We will resume this later, when we talk of character's looks and skills."

"Cheerios! Fruit Loops!" The Mary Sue formerly known as Misty but now called Verity said completely composed with a small wave.

"Well, she's certainly British…but she's still as empty headed as ever. I better have my port waiting for me…" He muttered then added brightly, "Stick around for doughnuts after the whole process is complete. And for a brief note," The Professor walked on over to his icebox and opened it

"Reviews are good too." Mr. Tumnus added. "If you have any suggestions on what you'd like to see in Verity, please review. Know that Yoo-hoo luverw.legs is by no way attacking mary-sue authors or shippers. And please get me out of this torture cell!"

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**Well, here's the second chapter. I'm scared about posting this. I've never posted anything like this before. Please tell me what you think and suggestions are always welcome. Rebuilding is still in the works, I just felt the urge to write something lighter. Thanks!**


	3. skills and looks

Mrs. Macready stepped into the Professor's office with Verity at her heels. The housekeeper instructed for the door shut with a clipped tone. She turned to the vacant spot on the wall and inclined her head in greeting.

"I'm Mrs. Macready. I'm afraid that Professor Kirke has…over indulged in his port during diner-" She was cut off by the professor running into the room, draped only in a sheet.

"Professor Kirke! What is the meaning of this?" Mrs. Macready demanded.

"It's a toga party, Bethany!" Professor Kirke slurred, putting aside formalities and his housekeeper's last name. He handed two white sheets and continued, "I got those things for everything!"

"We're in the middle of an appointment." Mrs. Macready whispered authoritatively.

"I'm the professor."

"Yes, sir, but we're talking about Mary-sues."

"Well then! I shant keep the readers waiting." The professor cried as he walked up to the vacant space and put his nose up to it.

"Sir, you are in no condition to-" Mrs. Macready began but was cut off by Professor Kirke singing in the tune of 'I'm a little teapot',

"I'm a little Mary Sue, look at me,

The prettiest girl that you've ever seen.

Everybody loves me, but here's the thing,

I'll only love the High King!"

"Professor Kirke," Mrs. Macready began, taking off her "kid gloves". "You are halting progress."

"But song helps everybody…" He protested, swaying a bit.

"He's right you know," Verity agreed then began singing her song. "Memory. All alone in the moon light. Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone…"

"Aw, lighten up, Bethany," Professor Kirke scoffed with a giggle. "You're always so dour."

"I am no such thing. All I want is to get this," she paused trying to describe Verity in the appropriate term, "thing out of my house so I can get some bloody quiet. Professor? Are you even listening to me?" During his housekeeper's speech, Professor Kirke staggered to his coat rack.

"Do you come here often?" he asked his coat rack. Meanwhile, Verity almost finished her song and crescendoed to the climax of 'Memory'.

"Touch me, it's amazing to be me! All alone with my memory, of my days in the sun-"

"Shut the bloody hell up!" Bethany Macready yelled exasperated. She turned on the professor, "I want you out, and put some pants on. You'll scare the Pevensie children of you go on like this." She pushed the professor out of the office and then turned to Verity. "And you! Shut up, you sound like a cat being run over on the track. Stand here so we can get this over with." Verity complied, far too scared to rebel.

At last there was some resemblance of order and Mrs. Macready smoother out her dress and turned to the vacant spot. "We'll just act like that didn't happen. Now, Verity is a Mary-sue. What is a Mary-Sue you ask? A Mary Sue is a character that seems too good to be true. And she is. She's perfect to the point of annoyance and delusion. Where one has their faults, Mary sues have none. And in rare cases if they do, their faults are often so insignificant, it doesn't even matter.

Now, if you want to know more of how you can identify one of these characters, I suggest that you read a previous chapter. This chapter is focusing on skills and looks.

Verity here is a Mary-sue. Last chapter, she was changed from a hard New Yorker to a cockney girl from England. We switched her American name, Misty, to a proper British name: Verity.

I must confess I never done this, but I do have the professor's notes, so I guess we'll go with that." She paused to read his notes, and the line on her brow deepened. "It says here that peanut butter and cod mate in surrey? Surely this is not what he wrote! Who had ever heard of such rubbish? I guess I should ask (though I really don't want to) Verity about her skills. Verity?"

"Yes, I can sing…obviously. I figure skate, dance, ride, knit, sew, I'm adept in football, soccer, tennis, swimming, archery, sword fighting, science, biology, meterorology, ologyology, I'm a neurosurgeon, bridge champion, I win all the time at Uno and Yo digo mucho Espanol, Aleman, Japanese, Chinese-any language except Martian… and I'm learning. I can talk to animals-"

"As you can see, nobody can ever do all these things and be real. Mary Sues tend to have many skills. I suggest you stick with one or two simple skills. Skills should give your character flavor, but at the same time, a skill that won't make the plot too dependant on the plot.

For example, the Pevensie children could play croquet, but croquet hardly helped in the battles they fought.

So, we should cut Verity's skills in quarters, no? Let us say that she can sew, and play the piano quite shoddily at that." Mrs. Macready was interrupted by a loud crack and when she turned around, Verity sat in a chair, hemming a dull brown skirt. The Housekeeper nodded in approval and continued.

"Secondly we must address a Mary-sue's look. She usually looks like a model with a figure that nobody on this wide earth can achieve. Some times she has…a curve below the neck…if you get my drift. Other times she is said to be so skinny she looks anorexic…but isn't. And she usually is well kempt, has a roseleaf complexion…and other beauty aspects. Basically, it is what ever the writer thinks is the height of beauty.

Verity here is a walking example. I suppose we can give her a lot of freckles, auburn hair that reaches her shoulders and rarely stays in her braid. According to my decoding of the professor's notes, Verity is going to be twelve in this timeline so she can say good-bye to her woman-oh dash it all, I'll just say it- breasts. Her usual green eyes will now be an unobtrusive hazel and she will be gaining ten pounds, making her an average weight instead of an anorexic." Mrs. Macready paused and turned to see exactly as she described: a twelve year old girl with her braid falling out of its coil, an abundance of freckles peppering her face. Her hazel eyes were concentrated on her hemming and she did even look up from her work to acknowledge neither the age change nor the change in her appearance.

"Quite rightly. Now-" she paused when one of the maids, Ivy ran in and reported that the professor was swinging on the chandelier…with his toga flapping . Mrs. Macready made an angered face and began to follow the maid but paused and turned to the spot again, " Join us next chapter when we speak about special abilities-special powers, if you will... Ooh, the rating on this fic just went up…Professor! Keep that toga on!" And with out a second glance, the housekeeper ran out.

A few moments passed with Verity too consumed in her sewing to notice or care that the faithful readers were left hanging. At length Mr. Tumnus's voice sounded from the fridge. "Hello? Is anyone there? Can you get me out of here or do you enjoy laughing at my plight? Please review and open the door."


	4. say 'no' to special abilites

**A/N: I'm alive!! Thanks for all who reviewed and read. I hope you like this chap.**

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The moonlight shone from the open window where the breeze brought a pleasant smell of a summer night. In a high backed chair a twelve year old girl slept over her mending. Her freckled face held no outstanding beauty in the pale moonlight and her throaty snore filled the serene house with the sound of a hacksaw.

Slippered hushed footsteps descended down the hall with an occasional creak of the old wooden floor. The door creaked open and Peter snuck into the Professor's office, quietly shutting the door with his free hand. Slowly he made his way to the snoring girl, raising a pillow as he inched closer.

Quick cloven footsteps broke the silence and just as Peter raised his arm, someone jumped on him, knocking the eldest Pevensie over. "Don't, Sire! What were you thinking?!" Tumnus hissed as he sat on top of the Narnian High King. "You're not supposed to show up until-" he paused and looked at the tentative schedule. "Chapter…mustard smudge?"

"Yeah, the author gave us a hot dog party during her long hiatus. She said it was the least she could do." Peter replied sheepishly, explaining the smudge on the tentative schedule.

"She threw a party? And where was I?" Tumnus wondered in a hurt tone.

Peter shrugged, "It's not my fault if you didn't get the daily memos."

"We have memos?"

"What do you mistake yoo-hoo luver.wlegs for? Of course we have memos! Just got one on Friday for a Disney night next week. Cinderella III, Aladdin, the first Pirates movie-even Finding Nemo. Pictures from the hotdog party are on the bulletin board by the water cooler. "

"Oh, my. I'll have to check it out." Tumnus said, thinking aloud and scratching his goatee. Then all of a sudden the two realized Tumnus had tackled Peter and was still on top of him.

"What are you doing here, Sire?" Tumnus hissed.

"Must. Stop. Infernal. Snoring…" Peter replied, his mission clearer to him now as he tried to reach the snoring Verity.

"No, Sire! You mustn't!!" Tumnus cried panicked.

"Get off me Tumnus! You think Lucy's adorable and Susan's properly charming? Just see them after a sleepless night. They're worse than the White Witch!"

"I won't get off you, Sire. That's no hacksaw, that's a Mary Sue! I know she doesn't look it but we're trying to make her in an oc."

"Mary Sue or not, she snores like a jolly in a roger!" Peter protested as he struggled to reach Verity.

"That makes no sense."

"Yeah? I have a funny way of not making sense when I'm sleep deprived." Peter replied as he struggled against the faun. Suddenly they realized that the readers were watching-er, reading. As if the light bulb turned on in their minds they stood up and looked at the vacant spot on the wall.

"Welcome back." Peter greeted with a beguiling smile. "You're reading Project Desue, a fic where we take a dreaded Mary Sue and turn her into a completely original character-right before your eyes. I'm Peter Pevensie-"

"And I'm Mister Tumnus." The faun interjected cheerfully. Before Peter continued, "And I-"  
"Sound like a weather man!" Edmund interjected as he, Susan and Lucy entered the room. The High King cast Susan a glance that said he thought she was keeping watch incase the Professor caught wind of their assignation attempt.

"You know," Susan began with a serious face walking up to the faun and her older brother and motioning for the younger Pevensies to follow suit, "We have a lot of fun on this fic."

Edmund nodded, taking his place behind the snoring Verity and placing his hands on the back of his chair as Lucy took her place at the arm. "But we'll tell you what's not funny: Mary-Sues."

"You may think that they're beauty and down right neat special powers are original in themselves," Susan added with a stage smile as Tumnus thwarted the slow exodus of Peter's pillow to the face of Verity.

"But they're not." The faun finished bluntly, his countenance completely blank and serious. "Even for Narnian born characters, this is a bad move unless you know what you're doing."

Lucy nodded and continued the monologue. "The fact of the matter is that nobody is stronger than Aslan; that's why he's Aslan. And we must remember that when writing any character, not just original ones. C.S. Lewis made it a point in these stories to have ordinary people do extraordinary things and we should not compromise this theme."

"That's right, Lu." Peter agreed with a curt nod, "This even applies to extra sensory perception. Whether or not you think its real, the idea of your character being psychic can open doors for Sueism. And Sueism is just _wrong_. Only play with humans and special powers if you're known for producing nicely original characters."

"And please, stay away from half-dryad hybrids of the like. We won't go further into the matter. Just try to stay away from them." Edmund added with a nod. "With the exception of villains, there's nothing we canon characters and the readers hate more than the magical teenaged girl with an odd power who is our only hope. Please, leave that honor for the every day unsung hero."

"That's right, Edmund." Professor Kirke interjected stumbling into the room with a pillow of his own. He took his place next to Mr. Tumnus and gave an imploring gesture to the spot on the wall, "In fact, did you know that 95 percent of violent crimes were committed with in an hour of eating bread?"

"So just say 'no' to special powers for your character, 'no' to bread and 'no' to drugs. Together we can make a future free of scary Mary-Sues and carbs." Bob Saget concluded, stepping in front of the canon characters and the Mary-Sue.

"Who in hell are you?" Professor Kirke wondered of the famous 1990's actor.

Bob Saget blinked in confusion and asked while the Pevensie children attempted to place their pillows over Verity's face. "This isn't the place for the 'say no to drugs' campaign?"

"Does it ruddy look like it?!" Kirke asked gesturing to the faun's more goat-like features. Tumnus frowned, mumbling about how he was getting no respect in the story. "You're not even born yet!" the Professor accused, shooing away the actor. "Quit mussing up the bloody time-space continuum!" He looked over to the chair where Peter appeared baffled at Verity's resilience to being smothered. At a loss of what to do, the Pevensies, the Professor and Tumnus left the room, the idea of getting a hotel room becoming very beguiling.

Once again, Verity was left in Kirke's office, bent over her sewing. The moonlight still did nothing to enhance her appearance. In a short snort, her head bobbed up and she looked around the office, slightly aware that something had just transpired. "Blimey! Wot I miss?" she wondered.

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**A/n: yes, I'm back to my Sue crusade thanks to the outstanding demand for me to continue. You all know who you are and I thank you for insisting I continue this fic. I will try to continue this in tandem with ALBE. Thanks goes out to all my reviewers and prodders. I was recently watching one of those special episodes of the 90's sitcoms where they attempted to address an issue and they reflected on it after the episode wrapped up.** **I couldn't resist. Surprisingly, the bread stat is true.**


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